


This Simple Life

by 1lostone



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: And Eugene being Eugene, Attempt at Humor, I love Eugene, M/M, Rated Teen for the language., Rickyl Writer's Group, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5218862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Terminus, Rick reflects on how lucky he is to have his family here.</p><p>Written for the RickylWritersGroup November  800 word challenge! Find us on <a href="http://rickylwritersgroup.tumblr.com/"> tumblr</a>  for more challenges and recs! :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Simple Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jlm121](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlm121/gifts).



> Thanks to **marooncamaro** for the prompt.
> 
> Written for mah bb **jlm121** because of reasons.

Rick was a little worried when Daryl disappeared.  Daryl wasn’t the type of guy to do that sort of thing. He’d wander off into the woods to check a trap, or take a leak, or something like that, but he’d never just _disappear._

 

Five minutes.

 

Ten.

 

Fif _teen_

 

Shit, where the hell _was_ he?

 

They’d found a pretty decent place to hole up. After Terminus; after finding Judith, everything had taken on a completely surreal, sort of hyper-focused turn.  Rick was almost too aware of every time the big dude, Abraham, whistled tunelessly under his breath, or the _swish-swish_ of Michonne’s braids against her shoulders as she walked. If anyone were to ask, Rick could tell you exactly how many steps Carl was from him, or Daryl was from Ty, or Sasha was from Bob.

 

The old cabin was a blessing in more ways than one. The first night, the low-grade thrum had driven them all bugshit, until Eugene had figured out that no, it wasn’t the hum of a generator, but a small hive of bees.  The original owner had several different hand-made hives, three of which seemed to be thrumming with enough bees to fill the damn cabin. Eugene had quickly worked out how to smoke them to knock them out and all of them were looking forward to some honey with their oatmeal.  Hell, the fact that they even had oatmeal was a bit of a miracle.  The cabin and the honey was damn near divine intervention.

 

“Dad?”

 

Rick sighed.  “Yeah?”

 

“Did you want to hold Judy for her bottle?”

 

Rick took his baby girl into his arms.  Her big, brown eyes filled with tears, lower lip turning down in a pout. Tyreese appeared almost like magic. For such a big man, it amazed Rick that he could move so silently. He produced the bottle and burp cloth with a little flourish, like garcons used to do back when any of that mattered, and Judith’s watery gaze zeroed in on that bottle like a heat-seeking missile.  Rick shifted her to his hip and nodded gratefully at Tyreese before his tiny, sweet daughter snatched the bottle out of his hands like a greedy wolverine eyeballing a bloody  hunk of meat.  

 

“She likes it with a bit of the oatmeal. Fills her up.” Tyreese set down the burp cloth and disappeared back into the house.

 

Rick nodded and rested his head against the wood of the cabin.

 

“Dad? Something the matter?”

 

Rick opened one eye.

 

“Not really.”  And there wasn’t. Nothing that he could put his finger on anyway.  After everything that happened after the prison, and everything with those crazy fuckers at Terminus, Rick didn’t think anyone would blame him for being a little twitchy. It was... well. It was just   _weird_ not having Daryl here. That’s all it was. Residual weirdness.

 

There was a high pitched screech from the backyard, near the bees.

 

Rick opened his other eye just in time to see Eugene running like his ass was on fire, sprinting across the backyard. His mullet jiggled as his legs and arms pumped, making him look a bit like a sailboat with a broken rudder.  

 

“ ** _BEEEEES_**!”

 

Rick, Carl, and Judith all watched Eugene running past, turning  their necks so their heads were in sync as he hightailed it by. Rosita and Tara both stepped up to the now-empty beehives, smoking the last few bees into a sleepy stupor and relieving them of both honey and honeycomb.  

 

“Thanks, Eugene!”  Rosita hollered, grinning.

 

“Yeah, good thinkin’, Eugene!” Tara nodded and raised the bowl with the honey in it.

 

Eugene just screamed a little more loudly in-between huffing for breaths and attempting to dodge the former cabin owner’s hydrangeas.  Abraham swooped out of nowhere with a smoky piece of green wood, and the bees all buzzed off to wherever it is that bees go when not chasing pseudo-scientists.

 

_Chrunch!_

 

“Wha’ goi’ ‘n?” Daryl asked, chewed, then bit into the apple.

 

Rick ignored the way his face wanted to grin and looked down at his daughter who had set aside the bottle and made grabby hands towards Daryl.

 

Rick kinda knew how she felt.

 

“You back?”

 

Daryl nodded and held up the backpack full of apples. “Yep.”

 

“Hey! How ‘bout them apples!?”  Carl grinned at both of them, then dodged the apple core Daryl threw at his head.  

 

Carol, Maggie and Glenn descended onto the porch, and within minutes everyone was gathered in the twilight, dipping apple slices into bowls of honey. Rick looked around at his family, noting that it had been a long damn time since all of them had been able to just take a breath like this. Soon, they’d have to go back on the road, but for now?

 

They were happy, and full...

 

...and _here_.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Since you're reading a fandom about zombies, perhaps you will continue to suspend your disbelief over the fact that bees produce honey in the fall, instead of the summerish early autumn that this would be canonically. :D If not, think of it as crack.


End file.
